<!DOCTYPE html>
<html>
<head>
<meta charset="UTF-8">
<title>Father and Son by TheSaturnianWildcat</title>
<style type="text/css">

body { background-color: #ffffff; }
.CI {
text-align:center;
margin-top:0px;
margin-bottom:0px;
padding:0px;
}
.center   {text-align: center;}
.cover    {text-align: center;}
.full     {width: 100%; }
.quarter  {width: 25%; }
.smcap    {font-variant: small-caps;}
.u        {text-decoration: underline;}
.bold     {font-weight: bold;}
</style>
</head>
<body>
<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/28908462">Father and Son</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheSaturnianWildcat/pseuds/TheSaturnianWildcat'>TheSaturnianWildcat</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>The Rabbit Hole [1]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Five Nights at Freddy's</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Alternate Universe, Blood, Gen, Gore, Violence, all canon-typical as this covers the springlock and scooping incidents, allusions to child death and murder, i probably messed up the timelines but eh, who knows what the timeline even is lmao</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-01-22</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-01-22</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-13 11:13:41</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Mature</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>3,958</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/28908462</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheSaturnianWildcat/pseuds/TheSaturnianWildcat</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>William goes to find out the fate of his eldest Michael and what he finds leads him to making some bad choices.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>The Rabbit Hole [1]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/2130282</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>10</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>66</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Father and Son</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Signs and sights whizzed by as William sped his way to his eldest’s home, a familiar anxiety clawing at his chest.</p><p>William Afton did love his children, despite what one may think. Perhaps, he loved them too much. The accidents and subsequent deaths of his two youngest tore him up in ways that he had struggled to express in a healthy matter.</p><p>So he didn’t.</p><p>In fact, his “coping mechanisms” attested to the deaths of at least five children, one of which considered him “Uncle William”.</p><p>Anyway, so it was no surprise that the deaths of his own children played through his mind when Michael, his eldest son, did not answer the phone that fateful day.</p><p>He had spent some time out of contact with Michael, as he had left home very soon after he became an adult. According to him, he had to “make his own way”, but William suspected the tenseness after his siblings died and then William being accused of the Missing Children Incident (by none other than his former business partner, Henry Emily!) drove his son away. Soon after, thanks to that accusation, William too left Hurricane.</p><p>Then years after, he needed his son’s help. He didn’t contact Michael for it specifically, just to use him, but it was an excellent excuse as to why he needed to talk to him all these years past. What he needed help with? To put Elizabeth back together. William could remember the conversation now.</p><p>“Put Lizzie back together?” Michael, leaning up on the counter of his tiny kitchen, asked his father through the phone.</p><p>His father’s more distinct British accent filtered through, “Ah, yes. I want you to come down here, just for a few nights. Do some tasks and I think you’ll see what I mean.”</p><p>Michael furrowed his eyebrows, “I still don’t understand.”</p><p>William wanted to agree, to say that he didn’t either. But he knew Lizzie was in that machine, the same one that took her. It watched him and he could honestly see its eyes plead with him. What she wanted, he didn’t know. But he feared it because sometimes she looked at him with green eyes aglow with fire in them.</p><p>“Listen, I’ll pay you. It won’t be a wasted trip.”</p><p>Michael was still on the fence. But he hadn’t seen his father in a few years and a part of him craved to see him again, to make him proud. He sighed deeply, “Alright, father, what do you want me to do?”</p><p>Oh, William feared the worst. The Funtimes weren’t supposed to be dangerous to adults, their secret protocols wouldn’t activate otherwise. But why hadn’t his son answered the phone? They had a system, Michael would call him after his shift. According to him, everything was going great. The robots were a little antsy but “nothing he couldn’t handle”. William had no reason to believe Michael was lying.</p><p>He stopped with a screech in front of Michael’s tiny apartment, hopping out of the car. He ascended the stairs two steps at a time to stop in front of the door. He rapped on it hard.</p><p>No answer. And no lights on inside. He whipped his phone from his pocket, flipped it open and speed dialed Michael’s number.</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Uh, sorry I missed your call. Leave a voicemail and I’ll get back to ya! </span>
  </em>
  <span>His voicemail said back in his voice.</span>
</p><p>After the beep, he turned on his heel and headed back down, speaking at a frantic pace, “Michael, please call me back as soon as possible. It’s your father.”</p><p>He got back into his car and didn’t even bother buckling his seat belt, cranking the car and backing out in one fluid motion. Then he sped back out, towards the highway, on his way to Afton Robotics. He had little regard for traffic laws as the desert night blurred to a deep blue smudge in the corner of his eyes. The anxiety hadn’t left and nervous energy filled him, demanding an outlet.</p><p>“No, he’s alright,” he spoke to himself, as if to convince himself.</p><p>Afton Robotics was a black monolith blotting out the desert stars. It was outside of town, a calculated decision on William’s part. He sped into the abandoned parking lot and, without looking around, he ran to the front, swiping his key card and going in. The elevator to the sub-facility was towards the back, out of prying eyes. He stepped in, punched the button to descend and waited.</p><p>The machine rumbled to life and descended. After a moment, cheery music began to play, further wearing on his nerves. Why did the elevator music have to be so cheery? He for sure didn’t pick that out. He leaned on the back of the elevator and watched the shadows play on the walls as he waited. Finally, a ding played and he was let into the main chamber.</p><p>It was no worse for wear, showing absolutely no signs of his son’s presence here. Still, he gave it a once over. He hadn’t been in this chamber for a while but it appeared unchanged. He sighed, looking at the vents leading out, “Gettin’ too old for this,”</p><p>He finally shimmied out into the Ballora Gallery, cracking his back as he stood to his feet. He unclipped the flashlight from his belt loop and turned it on, looking over Ballora’s stage—and the two bodies strung up above it.</p><p>He recoiled, breath hitching as he forced himself to shine the light on them. To his relief, neither was his son. But it was still concerning. Both were dangling from the stage lights, bound in thick wire, the kind he used in the Funtimes’ endoskeletons.</p><p>Something was wrong here.</p><p>
  <span>Something was </span>
  <em>
    <span>very</span>
  </em>
  <span> wrong here.</span>
</p><p>William swallowed thickly and made his way to the access door to the Funtime Gallery.</p><p>Here, he didn’t see anything suspicious...at least, not right away. Tucked in the corner was the access door to the Scooping Room. And beside it, trailing down the wall and floor were dark stains.</p><p>He made himself cross the room, hands shaking and making the flashlight’s light sway erratically. Once closer, the stagnant air gained a faint but distinct metallic smell. He flashed the light on the stains on the floor. They were reddish-brown, not recent but certainly not old. He swung the light down the hall. The stains led to the maintenance hallway at the end of the building and to the emergency hatch. Both places he did not tell Michael of.</p><p>He swung it back to the access door, finding it curiously ajar. He didn’t want to open it, some primal voice in his head telling him there was something he didn’t want to see on the other side. He ignored it and opened the door.</p><p>The metallic smell was overpowering in there, so much he stumbled back. It brought forth memories—golden fur, red claw, so so much blood—</p><p>He shook his head to clear it. He was jumping to a terrible conclusion and it was looking like it was about to confirm itself. Slowly, he pushed the door open fully and shone his light inside.</p><p>Inside was the scene of a bloody murder. The scooper was extended and in front of it was nothing but red. Blood covered the entire area in front of it, the wall, the floor, even some of the spare parts that surrounded it. But that wasn’t the worst part. No, the worst part was the innards, haphazardly strewn about like demented party streamers.</p><p>He stumbled back, his flashlight clattering to the floor, echoing in the dark. He was hyperventilating, grasping for the wall to steady himself. There was a detached part of himself, eyeing this with a critical eye, calling him a hypocrite for his reaction.</p><p>No, this was different. This wasn’t a faceless brat to lash out at, this could be his son!</p><p>And where was the body? What even happened here? Where was his son?!</p><p>He reached over and dug his nails into his arm until thin rivulets of blood streamed from it. He had to focus. He had to go to the security office. Finally, he picked up his flashlight and looked back into the room one more time. The parts from the Funtimes seemed to be arranged in a manner to trap the victim and the monitoring window had been shattered. He refused to think deeper on this evidence, slamming the door closed and dashing back across the Auditorium to the security office. There was only one way to confirm what had happened.</p><p>Once there, he locked the door behind him (just to be safe), booted up the computer and sat, waiting as the machine booted up. The thing was slow, with the whole place being encased in metal and underground. Still, as every second ticked by, William’s nerves threatened to eat him alive.</p><p>Finally, it booted to the security camera interface. He quickly set it back to Friday night, skipping through the footage of the Scooping Room until someone came inside. Pause, rewind, play.</p><p>Michael crawled through the access hatch into the room. He stood and called, “Alright, Lizzie, I’m here!”</p><p>So he had found his sister. That fact felt somewhat hollow.</p><p>Elizabeth’s soft voice responded, “You are in the Scooping Room now. Funtime Foxy has already been here today. Funtime Freddy has already been here today. Ballora has already been here today. Circus Baby has already been here today.”</p><p>Michael surveyed the room, at the scattered parts of the Funtime. What he missed at first that William did not was a tall figure lurking behind the window, at the controls of the device. Michael looked up at the window and stumbled back. Whatever it was, he didn’t expect to see it.</p><p>Elizabeth continued, “I’ve been out before...but they always put me back. They always put us back inside. There’s nowhere for us to hide here. There is no nowhere to go when we look like this,” she paused then continued, a note of joy in her voice, “But if we looked like you...then we could hide. If we looked like you, we would have somewhere to go.”</p><p>Michael stumbled back into the wall as realization hit. But the hatch had closed, a protocol to prevent any of the animatronics from escaping once in. He turned back to the figure and cried, “Lizzie, you don’t have to do this! I’ll figure it out, Lizzie! I’m your brother!”</p><p>William clapped a hand over his mouth. He had never ever heard his son so terrified.</p><p>Lizzie murmured, as if to comfort him, “Don’t worry, the Scooper only hurts for a moment.”</p><p>An alarm rang out as the room was lit in red light. The figure in the window, an endoskeleton, was reaching down to work the controls. There was nowhere for Michael to flee. Once the room was in operation, it locked down. Still, Michael looked for an escape, finding none. There were parts everywhere, backing him into the corner.</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>This was premeditated</span>
  </em>
  <span>, William realized.</span>
</p><p>“God, please, Lizzie! Stop, please! I can figure how to take you home! C’mon, it’s me—“</p><p>The Scooper swung out at him, throwing him back against the wall with a crash. As it swung back into its resting position, Michael slumped down into a bloody heap, his head lolling to the side. And oh, how William wished it didn’t, just so he didn’t have to see his son’s eyes wide with terror. The window shattered and the endoskeleton climbed into the room, approaching his son. Michael groaned weakly as the thing crouched, reaching one hand into his torn chest—</p><p>
  <span>William couldn’t watch anymore so he pressed the power button, holding it down until the monitor went dark, leaving him in darkness. He pushed away from the desk, holding his head in his hands and biting back a primal scream. He could barely think, barely fathom the final fate of his son. All he could feel was a torrent of pain that threatened to wash him away. He couldn’t lose control, </span>
  <em>
    <span>couldn’t lose control.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>In a fit of adrenaline, he picked up his flashlight and dashed for the escape hatch. His body moved on autopilot, eyes trailing along the blood trail as he ran. He inwardly cringed as he climbed the ladder, dried blood against his hands. Finally, he emerged into the desert behind the building, illuminated in eerie blue light from where the moon peeked out from behind the clouds. He followed the blood, as it doubled back towards the highway. But before then, he lost it. He stopped where it did. “No, no...Michael, where are you?” he shakily asked.</p><p>“Michael!” he screamed into the night.</p><p>He wasn’t sure what he was expecting when there was no response. William sank to his knees, eyes fixated on the blood.</p><p>It didn’t matter. Michael was dead. He had no idea what exactly happened when the machine hijacked him but he could only hoped Michael died before that. His experiments didn’t account for something like this, he doubted the remnant could take hold in any meaningful way—</p><p>William howled in agony.</p><p>He had to do something to deal with this, he wasn’t equipped to deal with these kind of feelings the first two times and he definitely wasn’t the final time. His fingers itched for the handle of an ax.</p><p>He sat there, letting his mind wander as he tried to think of a way right now to relieve his feelings. Then it clicked and he stood, almost robotically, and walked back to his car.</p><p>The drive to Hurricane passed in a haze of numbness for William. He paid no mind to traffic laws, not really caring in his current state of mind. Hurricane was dead at this time of night, all the good families had tucked in for the night. It was his time.</p><p>His destination was in town, towards the outskirts. Freddy Fazbear’s Pizza sat in its lot of dead weeds and dirt. The place itself didn’t look much better, old yellow tape on the outside, fluttering in the wind, the roof bowed in somewhat and the windows cracked. Dark, heavy storm clouds had gathered over the town, catching the whole place in a dim and eerie darkness. He turned around to the back, where his car wasn’t seen from the road and stepped out.</p><p>The back entrance was locked but his key still fit the door. His eyes glittered with surprise. They didn’t change the locks! He let himself into the Parts and Service room and surveyed it.</p><p>The only light was what little streetlight filtered through the dusty windows. Long forgotten parts sat on the shelf, an unused Bonnie shell staring with empty eyes. An ancient, now outdated endoskeleton laid on a table, head turned away from him. It wasn’t the same but the sight of it reminded him of the other one and he got angry and pained all over again.</p><p>Once he was done here, he had plans to make. Lots of plans. For one, he had to go track down that rogue endoskeleton again. He knew it would be painful but the idea of that...thing roaming around, desecrating his son’s corpse was just too much. And it might hold some useful bits of information to his research. Research that he’d have to start once again.</p><p>But he couldn’t get ahead of himself, not yet.</p><p>He scouted out the room until he found an ax in a dusty corner. He held the thing, passing it from hand to hand before judging it to be adequate.</p><p>He crept to the door, nudging it open and peeking outside. No one was in sight. But, somehow, he knew those lazy higher-ups at Fazbear Entertainment had left them here. The place hadn’t even been properly stripped, old drawings and advertisements clung to the wall stubbornly. He could see in the dimness that there were even tables and chairs left in the dining room. His lip curled in amusement. The place had really died without him.</p><p>He stepped out in the hallway and crept through the dark pizzeria until he stopped at the end of the right hallway. A dark, familiar shape stood hunched over. One step, two steps, he paused right behind Chica, a wild grin on his face. Then he brought the ax down onto one of the chicken’s shoulders, cleanly decapitating one of her arms.</p><p>The chicken groaned, whether in pain or surprise William didn’t care. She started to turn to face him but William hitting her in the side sent her toppling to the floor in a cacophony of noise. His grin didn’t falter as he wildly chopped at her, taking her apart until she was in silent pieces on the floor.</p><p>He let himself stop to breathe, his head dizzy with adrenaline. The groaning of metal sounded from the end of the room and he looked up to see Bonnie, having awoken and coming to investigate. The bunny froze, having recognized him, even in the darkness. He started to turn away but its aged machinery was never fast enough to evade William’s ax which buried itself in his neck.</p><p>The bunny made a warped cry, trying to swat the madman away but William danced out of the way, slashing again at Bonnie’s back. His blade cut through the rotting fabric easy enough so the next swing dug into metal. Bonnie was down a lot faster than Chica was but this didn’t stop William from fully dismembering him, just to be sure.</p><p>Buzzing with excitement, William looked over the room. No Freddy or Foxy. He’d have to check on the golden suit before he left but the thing was stripped long before this so he doubted he’d have to do anything. He walked up to Pirate’s Cove, ax in one hand and hand on the curtain.</p><p>Just as he threw the curtain open, Foxy slammed into him with a defiant cry. The fox tried to bite down on his arm but William held the ax up, so his jaws bit down on the handle instead. William felt no fear, only adrenaline as he kicked Foxy back and ripped his weapon from his jaws.</p><p>The fox landed on his back against his stage, unable to right himself as fast as he once was. He howled in surprise at the ax hit him in the face. He continued to howl until he finally went silent when William’s weapon took him apart.</p><p>No doubt Freddy would have heard this commotion and went hiding. William grinned at the prospect of hunting him down as he stepped over Foxy’s parts. He mentally went through the rooms in the pizzeria and, as silent as death, began to look through them.</p><p>He found Freddy in the bathroom, backed in the corner, hiding from him. Animatronic or not, he was still a child. William crept in like a cat, ax swung back, ready to swing. Freddy was frozen in terror.</p><p>Then William leapt forward! To his surprise, Freddy lashed out and actually connected, knocking him into a stall door and blowing the wind out of him. Instead of further attacking though, the bear fled, his joints screeching with effort as he hobbled away. William regained his bearings and scrambled upright, furious at the audacity. He charged like a bull, ax connecting with one of Freddy’s knees and bringing the animatronic down.</p><p>The bear let out a mechanical screech but this only egged him on as he decapitated the leg. Then the other leg and then the torso, William meticulously but viciously dismembered the animatronic.</p><p>Finally, he stood straight and let out a relieved sigh. The place seemed quieter than it had and he was allowed to let all the energy go. After he was at a more level place, he set out, back to the Parts and Services room, like nothing had happened.</p><p>He stepped into the dining room—then froze.</p><p>It wasn’t supposed to be still here.</p><p>It wasn’t hard to see the tall, spindly, striped figure in the dim, guarding the door. It’s mask wasn’t supposed to show anything but empty joy but it was angry. The Marionette stared him down.</p><p>“<b>It’s me.”</b></p><p>William bolted in the other direction like a shot. The Marionette wasn’t supposed to be able to talk but yet it did, and in a certain child’s voice!</p><p>The front door! He should be able to break through it with the ax!</p><p>But there, a specter of a child materialized, a girl with a Chica mask, inky black tears rolling endlessly down her cheeks. William came screeching to a halt and whirled on his heel to head to another direction. But there was another two ghosts, this time two boys with a Bonnie and Foxy mask respectively. And the Puppet was still coming for him, a ghost with a Freddy mask following.</p><p>There was a gap within the group, leading back to the hallway with the bathrooms. Bingo.</p><p>He ran for it, leaping over the remains of Freddy and stopping before a boarded wall. He swung his ax at it, the rotten wood giving easily to a door which was unlocked. He slipped inside the room.</p><p>It was much darker in here so he flicked on his flashlight, setting it on the floor so the beam was pointed at the ceiling. Some defunct arcade machines crowded one side of the room with the discarded covering of Fredbear, hunched over, empty eyes looking into nothing. Then there was his precious Spring Bonnie, a little worse for wear but having avoided as much wear as the other animatronics.</p><p>It wouldn’t be long before the ghosts followed him inside so he wasted no time crouching beside the springlock suit and cranking the springlocks back. It felt like ages as the metal groaned with movement until there was a click, signaling Spring Bonnie was ready for wearing. Moving quickly but not carelessly, he slipped into the suit and stood. He felt...safe.</p><p>He turned to face the door where the four children and Puppet stood. He smiled, “Alright, kiddos, we’re gonna wait until sunrise then none of us will have to see each other again, agreed?”</p><p>The group stared at him. No rage? No disappointment? “Nothing at all?” he asked them, “No passing words, farewells, goodbyes? You’re not even angry?”</p><p>Still, no response.</p><p>William scowled. The ghosts’ heads turned to the golden suit and he followed their gaze.</p><p>The golden Freddy suit was looking at him, eyes alight. A fifth specter rose from it and rushed him. Startled, William stumbled back to the wall. Above, the storm rumbled and opened up, raindrops pattering on the roof. The ghost continued to advance and with it, the others found their courage, all corralling him into the corner. William growled, “I don’t know what your game is…”</p><p>Then a single droplet hit Spring Bonnie’s nose. William looked up to see the roof above where they had backed him into was caved in, dripping water inside. His confusion only had a moment to turn to horror before—</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Snap!</span>
  </em>
</p><p>The springlocks in the legs went first, bringing William to his knees. The noise that left his throat was inhuman as the springlocks all went off. He collapsed, struggling to even writhe in pain as the metal kept him in place. All he could do was scream as his blood drained onto the floor, staining precious Spring Bonnie’s fur red. The children and Puppet watched impassively. This wasn’t something to be triumphant over. It was simply the ending of a long and tragic story.</p><p>The impassive expressions of his victims were the last thing William Afton ever saw.</p><p>At least, for a while.</p>
  </div></div>
</body>
</html>